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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25933084">Spirals and Knots</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowObsidian/pseuds/RainbowObsidian'>RainbowObsidian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pilgrims [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All For The Game - Nora Sakavic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Post-Canon, Sorry Not Sorry, aftg summer, did I mention this was fluffy?, soft andreil, this is utterly self-indulgent, very vague mention of scars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:20:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25933084</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowObsidian/pseuds/RainbowObsidian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrew knows there is no rainforest this far from the equator and he’s pretty sure Neil knows he is watching him stretch and he wonders if Neil knows how much he’d like to take him to the back of the van right now and give him a lesson in geography. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Harriet's maiden voyage.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pilgrims [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>AFTG Summer 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Spirals and Knots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Better late than never, here's my day trip prompt for AFTG Summer. </p>
<p>nb i went for a hike through a rainforest IN AUSTRALIA and decided our boys could go for one in SC. This is 100% self indulgent waffle.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You told me we’d only be driving this piece of shit van on the hard days, when you feel like running,” Andrew gripes as he climbs back into the front seat, arms laden with coffee and donuts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hush!” Neil laughs, poking the hula girl on the dash fondly before taking his drink from Andrew, “Verity is a sensitive soul; don’t hurt her feelings!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck her feelings. I can’t believe you made me get out of the van </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, outside our own local coffee shop. How am I supposed to look anyone in the eye with even an ounce of self respect now?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the one that got out; I was more than happy to go and get breakfast,” Neil smirks as he pulls away from the kerb and merges into early morning traffic, navigating the column shift with ease. He’s a sight to behold, all lean, muscly limbs and bed hair and sparkling blue eyes. His forearms and quads engaging as he changes gears is almost enough to drive Andrew to distraction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’d gotten out I would have had to sit </span>
  <em>
    <span>in here</span>
  </em>
  <span> for all to see, which would have been even worse, you shit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> people?” Neil laughs, open mouthed and open hearted, “It’s six o’clock in the morning!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s moments like these that Andrew realises how close to death his own heart had been, once, and how vital it feels now. It’s moments like these that he wishes he could verbally articulate how it’s Neil who has breathed life and vitality into him; he wishes he could bundle all of his gratitude and wonder into a collection of elegant words joined together in poetic brilliance. Neil’s as much of a mess as he is though and thankfully they are both fluent in the scrappy, inarticulate language of their feelings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought her name was Harriet?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The van?” Neil confirms, throwing his phone at Andrew. “You know it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who the hell is Verity then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Verity is our hula-girl. And she wants to listen to some music. I made us a road trip playlist.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andrew loves this version of Neil: ridiculous, organised, bossy. He unlocks the phone and snorts when he sees the songs Neil has curated into “DRIVE: a summer daze road trip playlist”. Scrolls through the artists. Springsteen, Bobby Brown, Kanye, Willie Nelson, Jack Johnson, Cindy Lauper, John Denver, Fleetwood Mac. “Where on earth did you find this list? Buzzfeed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil grins, glances sideways at Andrew and pokes him in the face with the auxiliary cable. “Oprah Mag dot com.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They travel in silence, eating breakfast muffins, drinking coffee, listening to someone else’s idea of good driving music. Andrew angles himself so his back is in the corner created by his seat and the door and kicks his feet up on the dash, one side of his mouth lifting at Neil’s mock dismay when his boots come perilously close to knocking Verity off her perch. He’s still not sure why they’re in the damn campervan instead of the Maserati or where they’re going but he’s taking full advantage of the casual shabbiness Harriet has to offer. However casual and shabby she is though, Andrew is not particularly comfortable. The upright seat is hardly slouch inducing and the manual window winder is pushing into the back of his right arm where he’s half leaned against the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has no idea where they’re going, knows only that they’re heading north west on I-26 but beyond that doesn’t care. He expected Harriet’s maiden voyage to be a messy, sleep deprived, last minute affair and instead it’s something all together different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Neil, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, early sun glinting off his eyes, faint smile playing across his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Neil, right at home in this ridiculous vehicle, with a crocheted nanna rug draped over the bench seat, hula girl on the dash and a strange talisman of protection charms (malachite, a travel rune and the old key to the GS strung together with a PSU laynard) hanging from the rearview mirror.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Neil, still bed mussed, but well slept, whole, glowing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Neil, feeling the weight of Andrew’s gaze, taking his eyes off the road long enough for Andrew to see them soften at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Neil. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Neil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Neil, patting the space to his right and welcoming Andrew to his side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Andrew, grumbling “shut up” and then leaning his head on Neil’s shoulder while they drive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>**</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Three hours later, Andrew is woken by the sound of the parking brake. He opens his eyes, rolls the kink out of his neck, wipes the corner of his mouth and looks outside. Tries to get a sense of his bearings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They are in the wilderness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neil,” he says, voice husky with sleep, wondering why six o’clock Andrew thought it was a good idea not to question Neil on today’s destination. “Where are we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neil stretches beside the van, back bent, arms raised, t-shirt climbing his belly. Abs and scars and happy-trail on full, glorious display. “We’re in the rainforest,” he says, smug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andrew knows there is no rainforest this far from the equator and he’s pretty sure Neil knows he is watching him stretch and he wonders if Neil knows how much he’d like to take him to the back of the van right now and give him a lesson in geography. The only wilderness he is interested in is the one he has mapped out a thousand times before: the peaks and troughs, the too-smooth ravines, the puckered ridges, the tiny potholes and gravel roads. The freckled landscape, the downey terrain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gets out of the van and grabs Neil by the drawstrings of his shorts. Pulls him close. Closer. Feels the weight of Neil’s glorious forearms across his shoulders, hands carding through the hair at the back of Andrew’s neck. Watches blue eyes watching hazel, closer, closer until they’re both cross-eyed and their mouths connect. He closes his eyes, feels lips parting, accommodating, tongues exploring. Runs his hands up underneath Neil’s t-shirt, fingers against skin, shivers a little when Neil deepens the kiss. Rolls his hips slightly in invitation or anticipation or -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Groans when Neil pulls suddenly away, grinning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t drive us three hours to a rainforest just to stand here and make out next to the car,” Neil says with a wicked glint in his eye. “Besides if we don’t head off now it will be too hot and it’ll defeat the whole purpose of getting up at the crack of dawn.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andrew will do anything for his person, including hiking apparently, and they begin the trail in companionable silence. It turns out the Jocassee Gorges </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> home to an actual fucking rainforest - of the temperate variety - and Neil has brought everything they need for a four hour hike. Despite his preconceived aversion to all things mountainous and outdoorsy, Andrew has to admit that this place is actually all kinds of incredible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This summer has been oppressively hot - the worst in years - and even with the newly acquired air conditioner and ceiling fans at home there’s been hardly any reprieve from the molten temperatures. It’s cooler here, up in the mountains, under the cover of ancient trees. It certainly isn’t cold - and Neil is right, in a few hours the temperatures will soar even here - but it’s comfortable and quiet and they feel tiny and insignificant; as though they’re the only two people in the world. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For now, under the matted canopy the sun becomes furtive, sneaking down through the tangle of treetops, creepers, ferns and vines, towards the forest floor. They pass white tailed deer, hear ground dwelling birds scratching about in the undergrowth. The rainforest smells of seduction, fermentation and death. And so, so alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They talk, sometimes, literally and metaphorically about their surroundings and themselves. About how everything exists in relation to everything else. About boulders, covered in moss and lichen, cold and hard, yet vital enough to support life and growth. About everything growing in spirals and knots, clusters and clumps, messy and skyward and beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The trail is undulating but it’s definitely trending up and Andrew is starting to get hot. And hungry. They’ve been walking for hours and Neil has been stingy in handing out snacks. Eventually they come to a suspension bridge overlooking a gently cascading waterfall that pools in a rock basin before emptying into the lake below. Andrew tenses slightly, for the briefest of moments and then takes Neil’s offered hand as they cross. There’s a path that runs behind the waterfall into a small cave and they sit here for a time, watching the misty water flowing in front of them like a garden hose reflecting a rainbow, devouring the food that Neil prepared. It’s nice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then they’re done and everything is packed away. Neil stands suddenly, pulls his t-shirt off over his head and toes out of his shoes, then his shorts, down to his underwear. Hops over the low barricade with NO ACCESS painted across it in bold white letters, looks over his shoulder and grins. “You coming?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andrew may be afraid of heights still, but he has never been afraid to break the rules. It takes him only a minute to strip down and slip into the cool clear pool, paddling over to where Neil is seated on a natural ledge, head back and eyes closed, letting the spray of water cascade over his face. Andrew marvels a moment at his messy, beautiful human, then slides in behind him, one leg either side of Neil’s hips and pulls him in towards his chest. They stay like this for a minute or an hour, before Andrew can’t help himself and kisses the back of Neil’s head, his neck, his shoulder and then Neil is greedily chasing Andrew’s mouth with his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This place is fucking awful by the way,” Andrew says by way of self distraction because he’s having a hard time reconciling his sordid thoughts about utterly debauching Neil here and now with the fact that this is possibly the most pristine natural space he has ever visited. It seems somehow sacreligious to merge the two. “Let’s get out of here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last leg of their hike is relatively short and mostly downhill. Andrew ribs Neil for making them walk over three hours of a loop to reach the waterfall when they could have gone the other way and been in and out in under two. Neil offers Andrew a piggy back ride - as if he could carry Andrew’s weight on those little runner’s legs - and Andrew throws him over his shoulder instead, like a fireman for the last couple of miles. Neil giggles and snorts and runs his fingers in circles over Andrew’s hipbone, right where it tickles the most. Andrew pretends he doesn’t love every minute of it and dusts off his long-abandoned, most awful threats in his best snarky voice. Neil doesn’t even pretend to be subtle in return, whispering all the ways he’s going to take Andrew apart when they get back to the van and making Andrew wish he’d been less concerned about the sanctity of the waterfall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later they will stop for ice creams on the way home and Neil will spoon feed Andrew while he drives.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later they will google other hiking destinations within a few hours from Columbia. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later they will get Thai takeaway for dinner and sit under the aircon and watch Alias and Andrew will call Neil Sydney. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now: they barely make it to the rumpled mattress in the back of the van, and if Verity and her sensitive feelings have a problem with what happens next she can jump off her perch herself. </span>
</p>
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